From 'Sonnets to Aurelia' (I)
When the proud World does most my world despise,
Vaunting what most my human heart must grieve,
Choosing what most I value to disprize,
Deriding that most which I most believe-
When the proud World, I say, does mostoffend
The artless passion of my patient heart,
Til I despair the morrow and make amend,
And before sunset from the sun would part:
Then in my ruin's hour remembrance brings
Faith to my doubt, to my intention grace,
Reminding me how feebly fall such stings
On one ...
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